Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this work of fiction (Kurt Sutter, et al, do). I am not making a profit, monetary or otherwise, though the writing of this.

Actual title is: "Fuck My Life"

A/N: Written as a birthday gift for epicusernamegoeshere. Sorry that this is so horribly late, I hope that it doesn't disappoint. Thanks go to a friend for reading this and helping reword certain parts as well as encouraging me.

This is a high school AU, set in modern times, and there are some OCs, but they do not play a major role in the story. Features: teen!Juice, teen!Tig, teen!Jax, teen!Opie, teacher!Clay, principal!Unser, school nurse!Tara, mama!Gemma, papa!John. There are revolving points of view, and possibly some typos, please forgive me.

Warnings: This story contains mentions of underage sex, drinking, drug use, child abuse, and is not suitable for younger readers. It also contains profanity, teenage drama/angst, and pre-slash (Opie/Jax). This is a WIP.

Juan Carlos checked out his reflection in the mirror, scowled for effect and narrowed his eyes. Yeah, Tina was right, it was a good look on him.

"Fuck." Tony, his mother's boyfriend jiggled the handle of the bathroom door, making it shake. "You in there, Tina? Hurry up, I gotta take a piss."

Juan ignored the continued jiggling of the handle and the resultant swearing when Tina, Juan's younger sister, didn't answer. His mother's boyfriend was a complete jerkwad. The sooner she kicked him to the curb, the better.

Juan adjusted the collar of his shirt a little higher, hoping that it would help mask the finger-shaped bruises on his neck. He could always let Tina cover them up with some of her makeup, but didn't want someone finding out that he was wearing makeup, even if it was just to cover up Tony's handiwork.

Juan doubted that any of the teachers would notice the fading bruises on his neck. The one on his cheek was almost completely gone, but he couldn't run the risk that some newbie teacher would see the bruises and call social services. He might need to have Tina cover it up after all. He frowned at his reflection, and nearly shouted at Tony to shut the fuck up.

It was his first day of high school, and he had to make a good impression, or he'd get his ass kicked, or worse. He didn't want to be one of those freshmen who spent his first day of high school stuffed inside of a locker, or hiked up a flagpole by his underwear.

This year, Juan was going to go from being a shy, geeky kid to someone that others knew and respected, maybe even feared. He was going to make a name for himself, provided that Tony didn't kill him first.

"Alex, get your ass out of bed, now!"

Alex groaned and rolled over. Pulling the pillow over his head, he burrowed himself deeper under the covers in an attempt to get more comfortable. It was much too early in the morning, and he'd been rudely awakened from a dream involving a set of twins with jugs he could get lost in and a pair of asses that...

"Alex, if you don't get your ass up and out of bed this minute, I'm going to wake your father, and have him turn you out of it!" his mother threatened.

Alex sat up, and glared at the alarm clock. It was a quarter after six. Too damn early to get up. He heard his mother's heavy footfalls on the steps and scrambled to get up.

"I'm up!" he shouted.

He held his breath until he heard her head back downstairs, and then let it out. His father worked nights, and would not hesitate to pull Alex out of bed, and then give him a beating for upsetting his mother. Alex fell back against his pillows, exhausted, and closed his eyes. The sun was peeking through his blinds and he wondered what the fuck it had to be so happy about at six fifteen in the morning.

Groaning, he gave up on getting a few more minutes of sleep, and pushed himself out of bed. He stumbled from his room and took a quick shower, remembering that today was his first day back at school. He grinned when he thought about harassing the incoming freshmen.

He was a junior this year, though it had been a close call. He'd passed sophomore English by the skin of his teeth. Miss Murphy, it turned out, was a very lonely woman, and Alex was well-versed in the ABC's of sexual intercourse.

Alex rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, and lathered up a handful of soap. He closed his eyes, braced himself against the wall of the shower with one hand, and pictured Miss Murphy in her pink lace bra and underwear.

He bit his tongue and clamped his lips together to keep from making too much noise, and gripped his cock with his other hand. As he soaped the length of his cock, he imagined ramming into his English teacher, the soft little cries that she'd made, the way that her breasts had bounced up and down as he'd fucked her, her lips slightly parted, her cheeks a rosy red.

Alex picked up the pace, squeezing and rubbing and jerking until he came. A picture of his English teacher's mouth open in a silent O, her eyes half-lidded as an orgasm tore through her body was at the forefront of his mind as he came all over the shower walls.

He almost wished that he'd flunked tenth grade, even though he would've been a double repeater, having already repeated his freshman year of high school. Mr. Morrow was not someone Alex was interested in fucking for a grade.

Alex wiped his cum off the tiles and rusted chrome, and finished getting ready for school. This year was going to be a good one. He could feel it in his bones.

"Fuck," Jax moaned when his alarm started beeping.

He blindly reached out toward his nightstand and knocked the alarm clock off when he tried to hit the snooze button. He could use a few more minutes of sleep. His head felt like it was going to fall off, and his mouth tasted like something had literally died in it.

The beeping grew in intensity, causing Jax's headache to kick up a notch. He leaned over the edge of his bed in an attempt to reach and silence the damn thing, but ended up falling out of bed, landing in a heap on his side.

"You awake, Jax?" his mother called from the other side of his door, and he grunted a response in the negative.

"Turn your damn alarm clock off, honey, some of us don't have to be up at the crack of dawn!" she shouted.

Jax fumbled around for his alarm clock, and finally located it and successfully turned it off. He sighed, flipped over onto his belly, and pushed himself up off the floor. He had the world's worst hangover. He shouldn't have had so much to drink at the end of the summer blast that his best friend, Opie Winston, had hosted.

"Thanks, baby," his mother said, and she shuffled back to her room.

He could hear his father's voice, a quiet rumble of inquiry, though he couldn't make out the exact words, and his mother's tired response. It never ceased to amaze him just how thin their walls were, and yet how little his parents seemed to know about his life.

Today was going to suck. He rubbed his aching head and surveyed his room in the dim light of predawn. Opie would be over in less than half an hour, to pick him up for the first day of their junior year, and all that Jax could do was stare at the pile of clothes that cluttered his bedroom floor, and form half-thoughts.

He pulled a wadded up tee-shirt from underneath his bed, sniffed it. It didn't smell like sweaty sock, or puke, so he tugged it on over his head, and crawled across the floor to find a fresh pair of boxers and jeans, casting aside those that were too smelly.

By the time that Opie honked the horn outside of his window, Jax was dressed and grabbing a handful of pop tarts on his way out the door. He ran a hand through his hair as Opie pulled out onto the street, and gratefully popped the white pills that his friend pressed into his palm.

It was going to be one hell of a year. That is, if he survived the mornings.

Opie blinked the sleep out of his eyes, and rolled out of bed. He pushed the vestiges of his dream from his mind, and took a deep breath as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

He had just over an hour to make himself presentable, and to rid himself of the more than friendly feelings that he had for his best friend. They'd almost kissed last night, but Jax had passed out, stone cold drunk, and Opie hadn't been drunk enough to take advantage of him, even though Jax had been coming on pretty strong.

"Fuck my life," Opie said, and he trudged out of his bedroom, making a beeline for the shower before his younger sister, Liz, could beat him to it.

"You should'a just kissed him," his little sister, Liz, whispered. She giggled when he scowled at her.

She skirted around him, stealing the bathroom before he could get there. He pounded his fist into the wall, and wondered why the hell he'd bothered to get up so early when they only had one bathroom, and his sister always managed to beat him to it, no matter how early he got there.

"Should'a stopped when they'd had me," he groaned, and he stood in the hall, leaning against the wall, waiting for his turn to use the bathroom, grateful that his kid sister wasn't at an age where she'd started wearing makeup and doing her hair.

The Tellers had four bathrooms in their home, and there was just Jax, his kid brother, Thomas, and his half-sister, Trinity, who'd come to live with them this past summer. She was two years younger than Jax, and would be starting her freshman year.

He'd have to keep an eye on her, make sure that she wasn't targeted by any of the upperclassmen, because Opie knew that it wouldn't occur to Jax. He wasn't used to having a sister to look out for.

"C'mon, Lizzie," Opie called through the door. If he wanted to pick Jax up on time, he'd have to get moving soon, or they'd be late, not that Jax would care if they were late to school, but, still, it was the first day, and it wouldn't be good to start off the first day of their junior year with a tardy. Fuck, I sound like a goddamn freshman.

"I'll be out in a minute," Liz shouted. "I just have to brush my teeth. Geez, Ope, give me a minute, would ya?"

He could picture her rolling her eyes, and he rolled his eyes and glared at the bathroom door, knowing that it wouldn't do him any good. He'd have to talk with his parents, again, about adding a second bathroom, because when Liz became a genuine teenager, which would be within the next couple of months, he had a feeling that no one was going to be able to get into the bathroom come hell or high water.

True to her word, Liz was out of the bathroom in a minute, smiling and sashaying on her way past her older brother. "It's all yours. You can make yourself look and smell all bee-oo-tiful for Jackson." She batted her eyelashes, and pursed her lips, and Opie wished that his little sister was a little less observant.

He covered his face with his hand, and prayed that he wasn't that obvious to everyone else, or his life, upperclassman or not, would be a living hell. It was bad enough that he had a crush on his best friend, it would be even worse if half the world knew about it.

"Fuck my life," Opie repeated and he closed the door, showered as quickly as possible, and made sure that, yeah, he smelled good and okay, so he made sure that his hair was combed and that he looked alright. So fucking what?

Maybe the universe could just put me out of my misery and kill me right now, Opie thought as he pulled up to Jax's driveway and his best friend hopped into the passenger seat smelling like a small brewery and looking like he'd just been spit out of a tornado.